50 Years Later
by zippingzephyr
Summary: Fifty years later, Bartimaeus is summoned again to the mortal world. What is the situation there? And who summoned him?
1. Introduction

A/N- This is my first fanfic, so let me know what everyone thinks of it. Constructive criticism appreciated. If I don't get any reviews, I won't continue the story.

Disclaimer- Everything recognizable in here belongs to someone else. The unrecognizable things (few as they are) belong to me.

WARNING! Ptolemy's Gate spoilers in here! Don't read on if you haven't read the third book and don't want it to be spoiled.

After the end of Ptolemy's Gate:

I drifted around in the Other Place, mingling with the other essences of the various imps, foliots, djinn, afrids, and marids that were also taking time off from various jobs and various masters. Once I was like that too. I had a job and a master that I was eager to escape from. Isn't it funny how you don't realize how much you cared for a person until they're gone? "Absence makes the heart grow fonder," someone once said. Death does the same thing to you. You'd think I'd finally learn after what happened to Ptolemy; to appreciate what you have while you have it, not after it's gone.

You can think of many things while you're in the Other Place. The thoughts up above were some of the things that passed through my head; other thoughts included how many of my friends had had their essence blown away, what Kitty was doing right now, and how long it would be before I was summoned again. The last thought was unlikely to happen for a while; most everyone in the magical world thought I was dead right now, joining said friends. Well, I wasn't. The only reason I was still able to think those thoughts up there was because of my last master- Nathaniel. He had done something I had never expected of him and done the same deed one of my previous masters, Ptolemy, had done- set me free when we were both doomed, therefore saving my life.

I wondered if Kitty would ever try summoning me again, just to see if I was still alive. Then I could tell her the truth about what had happened back in the Glass Palace, and tell her the message that Nat had wanted me to pass on to her. "Say Hello to Kitty," he had said to me (or rather thought to me, since we were sharing the same body). Hopefully someday I could pass the message on, but for now there is no use worrying about it, for I could do nothing until I was summoned.

I settled down to wait.

50 Years Later (In Earth time)

London, England

A dark room in a penthouse

"…And I summon thee, the jinn Bartimaeus!"

Ahh, my first summons in who knows how long. The voice doing the summoning sounded like a child's voice. It also sounded like it was the child's first summoning of a major entity (like myself). I decided to give said child a scare.

The child watched fearfully as a dark blue mist swirled around the room, while a church bell tolled in the distance. The room turned to ice, and the child, who had forgotten to bring a coat, shivered miserably. For a second there, I almost felt sorry. Of course, the moment that emotion surfaced I pushed it quickly back down, for a noble jinn's job to be scary, not to be compassionate. However, I could ease his discomfort and make the room warmer, so I did. I made it dreadfully hot, hotter than Hell (assuming there is such a place. I wouldn't know).

The poor lad looked terrified. Perfect. He was a rather malnourished lad, with stick-like limbs and a shock of pale yellow hair. He had a pointy chin and was of moderate height. I really didn't feel too bad about scaring the kid, because there was probably a wizened old coot in the other room telling the kid exactly what to do. It had happened countless times before.

"WHAT IS YOUR BUISNESS IN CALLING ME TO THIS HOVEL TODAY?" (Actually, it wasn't exactly a hovel; it was a quite nice room in a penthouse in what appeared to be the wealthy part of London. It's all in the theatrics)

Expecting a demand to humiliate someone or steal something (the last time I had been summoned by a new master it had been to steal a powerful magical object which caused loads of trouble, death, fire, etc. etc. If you want the whole story, then read the first book written in my honor, _The Amulet of Samarkand_), I was taken by surprise when the kid asked me in a quavering voice, "I would like you to answer some questions."

Earlier in the day, in that same penthouse in the same part of London, the boy's master, by the name of Theophilus Throckmorton, had announced to his rather bored 12 year old apprentice that it was time to pick his name.

"After that we, I mean you, can work your first summoning. I'm thinking an imp, or possibly a Scarlet Vexation, if I think you're ready."

Throckmorton was a kindly man, with a shock of black-rapidly-turning-white hair, with a fatherly disposition; however, he had no idea how quickly his apprentice had progressed. Little did he know that Jack, his apprentice, had already gone far beyond summoning the ranks of imps and Scarlet Vexations and was planning to summon a major jinni later that night. However, in Jack's school of thought, what his master didn't know didn't hurt him.

"Here, go and bring _Loew's Nominative Almanac_ now. You'll find the four hundred and forty-fifty edition sitting on the top shelf in my office. It has a blue leather binding, and I believe it's sitting next to that horrible glass vase that Aunt Martha gave a while ago."

Jack had quickly run and fetched the book. As the years had passed by it had grown into a weighty tome. When Jack reached his master, slightly out of breath, Throckmorton said brightly,

"Now, let's pick your name! There are many names to choose from, and as long as it's not already in use, it's yours. How about Macmillan Bloom? No? How bout Blaine Treacle? No?"

The picking went on for at least an hour. "Ah, here's one. And it was used just 50 years hence. It's a nice name. What do you think?"

Jack looked at the name on the page. It was okay. He had heard something about the last magician who used it. Something about an explosion…oh well. He nodded and signed his new name at the bottom of the pages proclaiming him as a named apprentice.

"Huh! You only want to ask some questions? No thefts or dirty deeds?"

I was so surprised I changed from my smoky billowing form into one more comfortable for me. Namely, the form of a tall, lanky 16-year-old boy with a pointy chin and a dark hair in a crew cut.

"Yyes." The poor kid was still stuttering, however it seemed that my form change had made him feel a bit better. "I wish to know how many total djinn there have ever been."

There was a new question. "Well, why do you want to know? And why would you call me? And what's your name, don't worry, I won't use it against you?"

"I'm curious. So, how many are there?"

"Well, I don't know for sure. At least a million recorded, but you all lost those books in the burning of the Library of Alexandria. I don't know how many there are unrecorded. Let me go back to the Other Place and see if I can find a better answer. What did you say your name was again?"

"I didn't." The boy began to speak the Words of Dismissal. As I faded away, I heard a distant voice. "John! John! Come here! It's time to do your first summoning." Inwardly I grinned. Just as I thought. A newbie. "JOHN MANDRAKE, YOU COME DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!" My surprise made me lose my grip on the Earthly world.


	2. Preview to the Gala

A/N:

Thank you to all reviewers! I love you all! I'm still kind of unsure where this story is going after this chapter, so there might not be an update for a while... Also, I have exams coming up soon. Ugh!

N.B.- Theophilus Throckmorton was born the year after the events in _Ptolemy's Gate. _He is forty-nine.

Disclaimer: None of this is mine. I am not trying to pretend like it is!

**The Other Place**

Once again I drifted around as I had for fifty years; however, this time something was different. Who was this John Mandrake? Where did he come from? Was John his real name, or did he just pick it out of the book of names? My bet was on John being his secondary name, because his master had mentioned something about a first summoning taking place once he came down from his room.

Why was this boy, out of all the magicians that had summoned me, asking me questions. I mean, it's not like I am not a reliable source; actually I am a very reliable source, due to my long and illustrious career; it's just not in a magician's nature to summon up a fourteenth-level jinn just to ask questions. In fact, only one other magician had asked me to answer something like that, and look what had happened to him! Why does it seem that every magician that I get involved with- that I have a true bond with- ends up with a grievous injury or disfigurement or death? Is it something about me? Are demons not supposed to care? Is this my punishment for caring? I mean, the only one who got off lightly was Kitty, and you saw her after her journey to the Other Side. Even if you didn't count that, she must be dying of love right now. Okay, maybe not dying, but certainly hurting.

Now, I must figure a way to answer my master's questions…

**A simply furnished flat in the center of London**

Kitty sank into her overstuffed armchair in her apartment. She hadn't decorated it lavishly, but this armchair was her one big indulgence. It wasn't like she couldn't afford more luxuries, as her job working as the consultant for the ministers paid very well, just too much luxury reminded her of the old ministers and their terrible rule. More importantly the luxury reminded her of a certain minister…

No! She couldn't allow herself to think of him. It had been 50 years, and her heart still hurt like it was yesterday. It was funny how you didn't realize how much you loved someone until they were gone. She missed Bartimaeus too. There had been many times in the past years when she had wished that she had been able to call Bartimaeus back and ask him what happened.

As the years had passes, Kitty had found many things to occupy her and take her mind off that day. However, the memories came back whenever she was alone, and nothing had succeeded to take her mind off them permanently.

The memories hadn't come back for a while; Kitty had been busy planning a party to unveil a statue, and the planning needed for this party had taken up almost all of her time. Kitty shook her head with impatience. She had no time to waste on silly thoughts. The tired woman got up from the armchair, sat down at her desk, and began to write her speech.

**The Penthouse in the center of London**

The summoning had gone well. Even Throckmorton, as picky as he was, had found nothing to complain about.

"Well, John, you did much better than I ever expected. Now, in lieu of that success, I have decided to invite you to come with Mrs. Throckmorton and me to an unveiling gala hosted by Kitty Jones. The event is tomorrow."

"Who's she?"

"Who is she? My, John, your current events knowledge is most definitely not up to date. Ms. Kitty Jones is a commoner; in fact, one of the very commoners who worked so hard to get rid of the horrible system that ruled the British Empire. Although she refuses to take a seat in the council, she is still a major figure in British politics. She must be around sixty-four or sixty-five, I'm not sure. If you meet her personallyat the Gala, do not say a thing about her appearance. No one knows how it happened."

"How what happened, Master?" queried John.

"It's hard to explain. You'll know when you see her." And with that, Throckmorton walked out of the room.

John stood in the middle of the room, thinking. _This Kitty Jones will be an interesting person to meet. I wonder what Throckmorton was talking about when he mentioned her appearance._

John shook his head once, and then walked out of the room.

**A dark room in the top of the penthouse- The next day**

Instead of bothering with the theatrics this time, I simply appeared in the same form I had left in- the form of the lanky 16-year old boy. My master, or should I say John Mandrake, stood in the other pentacle, looking almost exactly like he had before.

"Last time you were summoned here, I asked a question. What is your answer?"

Yup, still the same self-centered tween. No hope for change there. "Yes, master, I have an answer for you. Mind you, it was very hard to find it, and I had to talk to a number of testy jinn, but I succeeded. The answer is, no one knows."

"What! You insolent slave! You didn't try hard enough! There is an answer to every question!"

"Yes, there is, and the answer to the question you asked is that no one knows. There are always more jinni being created everywhere. Why'd you want to know in the first place?"

"I told you that in the first place. Now, I'm going to let you go for now because I have to go to a very important function hosted by some old bat."

"Who?" I was eager to find out who this young upstart called an old bat.

"I don't even know her. Someone by the name of Kitty Jones."

"HOW DAre…!" I then remembered he could use some extremely painful incantations on me and decided against yelling at him. "Here's a hint, kid. Don't judge someone by first impressions. Wait until you get to know them better before you judge them. I've learned that the hard way."

With that closing comment, I left the pentacle.

**The same room at the top of the penthouse, just without the presence of a jinni**

John wondered what had caused that outburst of temper in Bartimaeus. He shook it off and proceeded to dress for the gala.

Thankyou to all my reviewers!

I wasn't sure how old Kitty was during the events of Ptolemy's Gate, that's why I left it openended. Could someone please provide insight?


	3. The Gala and its Aftermath

_A/N- My exams are over! We have a weird schedule, with trimesters instead of semesters. Now I'll be able to concentrate more on this fanfic. waits for applause- none arrives oh well, maybe sometime else. C'mon, guys and gals, REVIEW!_

**A Room in a Penthouse:**

John stood admiring himself in the mirror. He was looking at his new black tuxedo, and turning around seeing how it looked from other angles, when he heard a call up the stairs.

"John, come on! You're going to make us late! Hurry up and get down here so I can fix your hair!"

John sighed. He had just finished ruffling his shock of blonde hair in what he thought was a fashionable way, and now Mrs. Throckmorton was going to mess it all up. Hopefully there wouldn't be any girl apprentices his age there. If there was, then his social life was doomed to end even before it started.

John stepped out into the hall, and, being careful not to scuff his shoes, walked down to the kitchen where Mrs. Throckmorton was standing, brush in hand. Ten minutes later, with his hair tamed and his coat on, the little group of three (including Mr. Throckmorton) stepped out into the rainy London night and called a taxi. On the way to the gala, Mr. Throckmorton told a story about the magicians of old days, and how they used to always ride around in limousines all the time.

"Well, why don't we ride in limousines these days, Master?" asked John.

"Well, for one, it's not very practical, not everyone wishes to spend the money on buying a limousine and hiring a chauffeur, and lastly, the limousines were a sign of how much better the magicians were than the commoners. Now, to have everyone riding in the same types of vehicles provide a semblance of equality. Oh, look! We're here! And look at all those lavish decorations."

The decorations certainly were lavish, John agreed. The entire façade of the old stone building was covered with ivy embellished with tiny sparkling stars, making the building look as if it was covered in vines of stars. "This must be an important person this Kitty Jones is honoring. I wonder who it is," John mused.

"Well, he was certainly before my time, because I've always heard of Ms. Jones being a solitary lady. Even to her friends she doesn't disclose much. People suspect something happened to someone close to her, and that caused her to draw away from society. It's a pity. When she does give ideas to the council, they're always brilliant."

"Well, we'll certainly find out soon. I wonder if I'll know anyone," mused Mrs. Throckmorton.

John sat in silence. He wondered as well, he just didn't voice his thoughts. He wondered who this person was, why his master had been so oblique about this lady's appearance. He also wondered if any cute girls would be at the gala. A boy of twelve's mind can be very predictable.

The door was opened by a butler, and they were shown in to the ballroom through a very long corridor. Passing endless pictures of old men on the walls, the journey seemed to take forever to John. However, the journey was forgotten as soon as they stepped into the ballroom. The decorations were even more lavish than the ones outside, and the mass of people thronging around the dance floor seemed to contain every color of the rainbow, and a few that weren't in the rainbow. John, his master, and his master's wife stood there for a second, taken in by all the splendor, then Mrs. Throckmorton, spying someone she knew, hurried off to join in the gossiping. Mr. Throckmorton said to John, "Come with me, Mandrake, and I'll introduce you to some of my good friends." Throckmorton seemed to know a good deal of the people here, and soon John's head was spinning with names and faces, and unable to keep them all separate.

A clear bell rang through the hall. All conversations stopped as a lady entered the room. "That's Ms. Kitty Jones," said Throckmorton. She was around sixty-seven and had long beautiful hair, however, it wasn't the way she carried herself or her hair that drew the attention. It was her face. It was scarred, and it looked like it had died while she wasn't in her body, realized she wasn't dead yet, and had come back to life. At the first glance it freaked John out, but after another long, measuring glance, John realized that there was something welcoming in that face, something motherly in that face, something rebellious in that face, and, most of all, something lonely in that face.

She began to speak. "I suppose you all know why you were invited tonight. You were invited to an unveiling, you just don't know who or what is being unveiled. Most of you here are less than fifty years of age, correct? Most of the older magicians were either killed off in the fights fifty years ago, or died of just plain old age. That means none of you know the truth. All of you here tonight have heard of the rebellion and the fighting that took place fifty years ago this year, but I would bet that none of you know the cause. Although the commoners were getting restless, they didn't start the fighting. The magicians started the fighting." There were restless whispers at this last statement; very many of them surprised. "However, I tell you, the magicians were only at fault for being greedy, not being cruel and massacring people like they appeared to do. Those magicians that started attacking commoners were possessed by demons, and the demons had destroyed their minds. Only a few people stood between them and taking over the world. I am the only one left of that few. A few died honorable deaths trying to defeat the demons; the rest just died of old age. The person I wish to honor tonight was one of the people that died defending our country. He didn't die a useless death, though. He was the one that destroyed the majority of the demon hordes, and the one who destroyed their leader. Without his ultimate sacrifice, none of us would be here today. His name was John Mandrake. However, everyone should know him by his real name: Nathanael. That is why I am proposing an award named in his honor. The Nathaniel Mandrake award will go annually to whichever person, magician or commoner, shows the most self-sacrifice in order to preserve his or her country. Thank you, and have a nice party."

John Mandrake stood in shock. That was his name. He hadn't known that the last magician to use that name had been the greatest magician in recent times, almost as great as William Gladstone. He must find more about that man. Bartimaeus would be a good jinni to ask. Making a mental note to do so the next time he found the time, he started off to enjoy the party.

**The Room in the Penthouse, One Day Later**

John Mandrake muttered the summoning words to Bartimaeus. "C'mon you jinni. Get here quickly because I have some things to ask you. Bartimaeus materialized in the form John was now used to seeing him in- the form of the sixteen year old boy. "I have some questions to ask you."

"So, how'd your party go with the old bat?" I asked curiously. I really did want to know how Kitty was holding up. "Why'd she throw such a big party all of a sudden?"

"Well, she was going to honor some other guy with an award named after him."

"Well, who was it?" I had a sneaking suspicion, and if it was true then the boy's face must have been a sight to see when they announced it at the Gala.

"That's the strange thing. His name was John Mandrake, but she called him by some name…Nathaniel, I think it was. The thing was the last one of that name before me was some weirdo who died in some explosion. All the others were too old for her to know." The boy sounded truly mystified.

"Believe it or not, I can actually help you there." I said smugly. "I know all about Nathaniel." Little did the boy know that I was actually wearing his shape that moment.

"Who was he?" I was surprised that the boy hadn't heard of the things that Nat and I had done. I suppose that the government wanted to cover it all up that the leading magicians had been possessed by evil demons, and there was no way you could reveal Nathaniel's good deeds without revealing what had really happened. Kitty must have decided that it was long enough ago and the memory of the previous government faded enough that she could reveal how much we'd done for the empire.

"Well, for one he was just like you when he was your age. Like you, I was the first jinni he summoned. Unlike you, I was also the last jinni he summoned. Nathaniel gave up his life to defeat a powerful entity called Nouda, and he ended up also giving his life for Kitty and me in the process. He was a noble man (Absence makes the heart grow fonder- I had decided to call him a man now), and you would hope with all your heart to grow into a fragment of what he was."

"Oh." The boy sounded awed. "That's… interesting. I wonder what Ms. Jones' reaction would be if she ever found out that my name is John Mandrake too. You may go now, Bartimaeus. You have done a good job."

I quickly departed before he had a chance to give me another order.

**A Simply Furnished Flat in the Center of London**

Kitty sank down into the overstuffed armchair once more with relief. Now everyone knew the tragic tale of Nathaniel Mandrake. Before last night, she had been the only one who had known, for the other beginning leaders had died in the fifty years that had passed, mostly of old age, though a few died of illnesses. Piper had been the last one to go. Maybe now that the world knew the ghosts of her past would leave her alone and let her get on with her life, whatever was left of it.

Kitty felt bad that she hadn't talked to very many people last night. The emotions had just been running too high for her to bear. However, she did wish that she had a chance to talk to Throckmorton. He had always been sympathetic, and it looked like he had finally named his apprentice. She had always enjoyed getting to know the little ones. She wondered if he would grow to be as good as Nath...no! Not those thoughts! She thought they were finally gone! Kitty gave a little yelp and buried her face in the side of the armchair.

_I'm kinda stuck on where I should go from here...my plot bunny doesn't know where to go from this. Any ideas, just let me know!_

_Many thanks to all my reviewers! Keep 'em coming! Just push that little purple button down at the bottom of the screen, don't worry, I won't be offended if you say bad things, as long as they're spelled correctly. Pllllleeeeease?_

_-Munchkin_


	4. Caught! An Interesting Situation

_Hello, Everyone! Have you missed me? I know that I've been gone a really long time, but I finally was cleaning out the files on my laptop and I found my previous chapters. After reading my loyal reviewers, I got some good ideas. Thanks to LuckyRatTail and Cried Nevermore. I didn't actually use your full ideas, but they gave me a boost. And maybe I'll use them later... I don't really know yet. In fact, I don't know when I'm going to find the time to write another chapter. It may not be for another year, but whatever… _

_Also, Bartimaeus is 50 years older, and his sense of humor is worn out. He's still too sad about Ptolemy's and Nat's deaths. More to follow on that subject._

_Disclaimer: None of this is mine. I didn't even invent any new characters except the Throckmortons and Jack (John Mandrake II). _

John Mandrake stood at the window in his room, gazing out at the busy streets of London. He had a lot to think about. What Bartimaeus had told him was very interesting. He didn't know it was possible for a jinni to care about one of his previous masters. The calculating side inside John wondered if there was a way to reciprocate that affection in other creatures he summoned, without actually taking the time to build the trust. The other side of John, the caring side, wondered what Nathanial had done to inspire that sort of loyalty in a jinni as crafty and wily as Bartimaeus. He decided to summon Bartimaeus again to get more details.

John quickly dove under his bed to find the necessary books and chalk that he would need to summon Bartimaeus. After finding them, he dumped them onto his rumpled bed in the corner of the room. Deaf to his surroundings, he moved the rug on the floor into the corner of the room and began to chalk the pentagram on the open woodwork.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened, and Throckmorton walked in. Seeing the summoning materials on the bed and the floor he immediately realized what was going on.

"What are you doing John?! That is extremely dangerous. I know that you just wanted to practice summoning, but you could have asked me to supervise you if you wanted extra practice." Throckmorton's face was red as he stomped into the room. "Here, boy. Let me look at what exactly you were summoning. There'll be hell to pay if it's over a level 2." Throckmorton's eyes bulged out of his face as he looked at the page that John was on. "A LEVEL FOURTEEN JINNI? Are you out of your mind? I'm thinking about dismissing you right on the spot. Thank goodness I caught you before you had actually gone through the summoning. Or had you summoned it before?" Throckmorton asked, suddenly suspicious.

John said nothing, but the guilty look on his face was enough to incriminate him.

"YOU COULD HAVE BROUGHT DOOM UPON THIS ENTIRE HOUSEHOLD. Have you no thought for you life or the rest of our lives? I will have to think upon what I shall do with you. Until then, you must stay in your room. No food. And I am taking all of your magical supplies with me."

Not thinking that he would be caught, John had not taken any precautions to hide any supplies in other places. He had everything out in plain sight. He knew that nothing he could say would change his master's (or soon to be ex-master? John hoped not) mind. As Throckmorton stalked out of the room, muttering to himself and carrying John's precious supplies, John sank down upon the bed, the very picture of defeat.

Two hours later, John heard the sound of heavy footsteps up the final flight of steps that led to his room. Throckmorton opened the door. John gulped. He still looked very mad.

"I have spent the last two hours reviewing the _Code of the Magicians_, the book that lists, in detail, all the punishments for infractions of a magician. I finally found the punishment for you. Tomorrow you and I must go into Parliament and stand before a chamber. Half of the members are magicians, while the rest are commoners. John gulped again. That did not sound fun.

The next day, John nervously adjusted his suit. He was too worried to even care about how fashionable his hair was. He slowly walked out of the house and into the car where his master was waiting.

As they drove to the Parliament building, John wondered why they couldn't drive any slower than they were. He knew that each mile they passed brought him closer to his fate. The silence in the car was almost unbearable. Throckmorton was not inviting any conversation, and John did not want to start talking to himself. So he just sat in the back seat, becoming more and more nervous as each minute passed.

Far too soon, the car pulled up to the steps of Parliament. John stepped out of the car with Throckmorton, feeling like he was going to his own execution. That's not a pleasant feeling to have. Little did John know, but Throckmorton was actually very proud of his apprentice. _Man, I wish that I was able to summon a level 14 jinni when I was his age. I really don't want to have to send him in there, but he did break the law. He must learn to take responsibility for his actions and think not only of himself. Well, I'll wish him good luck. He'll definitely need it. _

"Good luck," Throckmorton said to John. John curtly nodded, unsure if the statement was forced or genuinely meant.

They reached the room where the chamber met. Throckmorton told their names to the doorman and the doorman went inside to announce them. The doorman appeared at the door once more and beckoned them inside the chamber.

John looked around. The chamber screamed "I'M RICH!" There were mahogany chairs everywhere and a giant mahogany table in the center of the room. There was intricate woodwork on all the walls, and the ten people sitting on either side of the table all had gold goblets by their elbows. However, the one person sitting at the head of the table drew the most attention. The person was Kitty Jones.

John was surprised. He hadn't known that she still headed councils, and he wondered why she had been called up to head this one. He looked questioningly at his master, and Throckmorton muttered out of the side of his mouth, "She's one of biggest authorities on summoning abuse."

_Even better, _John thought. _My first meeting of her, and she's already set against me. My prospects look good. _

Kitty stood up. "Welcome, Throckmorton and John." John noticed a slight hesitation as she said his name. _That can't help either. I'm up on charges, and I'm reminding the head of my council of a dead person. Crap. _ "Now, I understand that John here is bearing charges of illegal summoning. At approximately," here Kitty checked her notes, "10:24 on the morning of November the second, John was caught preparing to summon a level fourteen jinni. Now, John, would you care to tell us what exactly you were preparing to summon and why?"

John gulped once, and then cleared his throat. His throat was very dry, and he didn't know if he would be able to talk. Unfortunately, he was able to talk. "Well, I wanted to find out information. I was really curious, and the only level jinni I could find that would be able to answer my questions was a level fourteen one. I was very careful…" John trailed off into silence.

"Hmmm. You only wanted to ask it some questions, eh?" John nodded. "Well then, Mr. Throckmorton, do you trust what your apprentice is saying?"

Throckmorton took a step forward. "Yes, Ms. Jones. I do. John has never lied to me before this incident, and he has never been interested in acquiring ultimate power. He has always just been interested in finding out the answers to imponderable questions. I trust him."

John smiled gratefully at his master.

"John, would you be willing to swear on pain of death or dismemberment that you are telling the truth? You are aware that if we discover that you break this oath then you will be dead or dismembered?"

John nodded once more. "Yes, m'am. All I wanted to do was to ask the jinni some questions."

"Well, it's fine with me if you just return to your house. Mr. Throckmorton, are you okay with taking Mr. Mandrake back into your house as a student?"

"Yes, Ms. Jones. I trust the boy, although I will be taking away all of his summoning materials and confining him to a study in literature for at least six months."

"It's all settled then. Mssrs. Throckmorton and Mandrake, you may both return to your dwelling. I trust that Mr. Mandrake will be punished accordingly?"

Throckmorton nodded.

"However, before you leave, Mr. Mandrake, what was the name of the jinni that you were trying to summon?"

"Its name was Bartimaeus, Ms. Jones."

As they left the room, John saw Kitty turn white and sink back into her chair.

As glad as John was to not have to serve a federal punishment, he still was not looking forward to the punishment that Throckmorton would certainly devise. The two were walking out of the Parliament building when they heard a shout from someone down the hallway.

"Throckmorton! Come here! I want to talk to you and your apprentice." It was Kitty Jones.

The two turned around and reentered the building. Kitty was standing in front of a door farther down the hall. They quickly made their way toward her, and followed her into an empty office.

"Sit down, sit down," Kitty brusquely said. All three took seats. "Now, John, did you actually summon the level fourteen jinni called Bartimaeus?"

"Actually, I did. I've done it several times now, all to ask him questions. The first time I wanted to ask him how many creatures are out in the other side. He didn't know which surprised me. The next time was right before your gala, and I was all dressed up. He asked why I was dressed up, and I told him I was going to your gala. He got an odd expression on his face right before I dismissed. The last time that I summoned him I asked about you, and he told me about you and Nathanial."

During his speech, Kitty had grown very pale. Almost talking to herself, she said, "I thought he was destroyed…with Nathanial…" Shaking her head, as if she needed to clear her thoughts, she asked, "What did Bartimaeus look like when you summoned him?"

John replied, "The first time he tried to scare me by making creepy sounds and making the room very cold. However, he changed into a lanky teenage guy with a pointy chin and dark hair in a crew cut."

After that last statement, Kitty grew very still. John noticed in a corner of his mind that her eyes were tearing up. Shaking her head once more, she said, "I can't bear to talk about this right now. Will you go? But I will want to talk to John once more. Please?"

Now very confused, the master and his apprentice left Parliament building and finally made it home.

The next morning, John was stuck in his room. So far he had only been awake for two hours of his imprisonment (or so he liked to think of it), but to a restless twelve year old boy, it felt like a year. Throckmorton had come up once to check on John; he was just making sure John wasn't contemplating throwing himself out the window. John wasn't, but Throckmorton didn't know that. John had too many things to think about before contemplating suicide.

There was a knock on the door.

"Yes, master. Come in," said John, who had immediately assumed the person to be his master.

"Actually, it's Kitty. Throckmorton gave me permission to come up here. And I brought some things." The 68 year old woman (_A/N: thanks loyal reviewers) _gracefully stepped into the attic room. She was carrying, John noted in some surprise, his summoning equipment. "You're the only magician in London that is familiar immediately with the procedure to summon Bartimaeus. I want you to do it with me in the room."

John felt that he couldn't refuse this woman her request. Plus, he got his summoning things back. He began to clear the room and draw the necessary signs on the hardwood floor. Since he hadn't fully erased the chalk from his last summoning, all he really had to was trace back over the markings on the floor and add a pentagram for Kitty. Directing her to stand inside the safety of the pentagram, he began to conjure Bartimaeus.

**The Other Side **

I once more drifted around, only this time I had a lot more to think about. Why had I stood up for Nathanial? However, I didn't have too much time to think about those thoughts. I once again felt the familiar tug of summoning.

I appeared in the attic of the house, quickly assuming my Nathanial form, not noticing the other person in the room. Only after I had fully appeared did I notice the other person in the room. She was fifty years older, but I recognized her as if it was yesterday that I had seen her last through Nat's eyes.

"Kitty. It's good to see you again."

_A/N: I've got some more ideas where this story is going, but I'm always open to ideas. I will probably end up using at least some part of the idea. But……the only way I can find out those ideas is if you REVIEW!!!!!!! So hit that little button! And let me know your ideas. Thanks!_


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